Wake Me Before I Fall Too Deep
by Windjammers
Summary: Jennifer's observations as she returns -- but where has she been?


Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction based on the television series, _Captain Power and the Soldiers of the Future_. It is not intended to infringe on the copyrights of Landmark Entertainment Corporation or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters and settings. I do not own the characters. However, I am putting them into an adventure since the show was cancelled and the writers/producers/directors/actors can't put them into any new adventures.

**Wake Me Before I Fall Too Deep**

_**Author's Note:**__ Plot bunnies like to come at the most inopportune times, and this one showed up when I was driving home from work. The bunny reared up on its hind legs and asked me, "Since you are definitely a member of the 'Pilot's Not Dead, Dammit' school of thought, how do you think she'd react upon her return?" I didn't really feed the bunny, but the little bugger snuck some carrots into its den and grew. It kept coming back, so since it wouldn't leave me alone, I thought I'd write down a few words from Jennifer's point of view…_

* * *

She kept falling through the darkness. She had no sense of direction, nothing to let her know where she was. She couldn't remember anything clearly -- just that there was an intense, stabbing pain like a thousand knives stabbing her, then the darkness and the feeling of complete unadulterated vertigo.

She felt herself twisting and turning as electrical bursts shot through her, but the pain kept her just on the edge of consciousness. It never stopped, never relented. She could feel _something_ mechanical all around her, touching her, trying to rip into her thoughts and possess her mind. The sheer terror tore through her, the darkness absorbing her screams as the pain became worse, as her fear grew.

She didn't know what she'd done to deserve such a punishment. She didn't remember doing anything wrong, anywhere she had been, her friends, her enemies, her name…

She kept tumbling downward. She saw nothing in the darkness, felt nothing but the pain.

* * *

She spent an eternity in torment.

Suddenly, the electrical bursts punishing her body become a focused electrical charge. She felt the heat of the beam dance over her as it ripped her from the hellhole that tried to destroy her and throw her away from the mechanical horrors. Her mind screamed in agony but no sound uttered from her mouth.

Light blinded her.

Noise shrieked in her ears.

Pain cried out for mercy in every muscle as a thousand knives pierced through her again.

Every sensation was a new lesson in torture. It was a suffering far worse than the hellish prison that had caged her was capable of inflicting.

The agony intensified when _something_ moved her.

The deafening noise never ceased. The pain increased as someone took hold of her arm and cold metal bit into it.

She felt a liquid enter her veins, something warm, something –

Everything began to fade away. The noise dimmed and stopped, the pain lessened, and she fell into a welcoming darkness.

* * *

She felt nothing, yet she was… aware.

No pain, no noise. There was just a low hum and a vibration that gently soothed her.

The vibration seemed familiar, but she didn't know why. She knew that whatever it was, it stopped the pain of the thousand knives that had pierced her.

_It stopped the pain. _

She wasn't hurting. She wasn't afraid. More than that, she felt safe.

She was too tired to wonder anymore. She just wanted to sleep and hoped that there were no more monsters lurking in the shadows.

* * *

The first thing she was aware of was that the air was cold. The cold wasn't bitter or biting, but there was a definite chill. Every breath hurt. Although warmer air was being forced into her nostrils as her lungs labored for precious oxygen, the cold comforted her. She didn't know or understand why. The coldness she felt was real, not something she imagined.

From the grip of the dark world that held her, she sensed a softness against her. Her fingers touched something warm. No, it wasn't just _warm_… it was keeping her warm. A warming blanket? Her mind had problems processing the definition, recognizing the difference -- the air was cold, the air she breathed was warmer, yet she was warm herself.

Noise. There was noise everywhere. She couldn't ignore it. Her arms felt too heavy to move – she couldn't cover her ears to block it out. All she could do was focus on the noise.

Then, there was another sound -- a single sound that drew her attention away from the others. It was comforting. She recognized it as one she'd heard before, long ago – it soothed her. Along with the sound was a touch – warm and strong. The touch took her hand out from the blanket, and the comforting noise echoed through the shadows. The noise had a calming tone, but there was a quality to it she didn't understand. It was… sad? Sleep claimed her again before she could wonder why the noise sounded as it did.

* * *

Cold again.

It was the one sensation she could understand. It charged at her through the gloom, demanding her attention even when she had no strength to give it any consideration.

Yet… she wasn't cold. She was comfortable, warm and safe.

Safe? Yes. She felt safe.

The noise… more noise… no, it wasn't merely noise. It was two different and distinct sounds. She knew them somehow. She recognized the tones and timbers. They made her feel protected. There was a familiarity in them that called to her time and again. They were keeping her from falling away completely, spiraling down to where she didn't want to go.

Again, she felt the… blanket?... keeping her warm. She felt something else. The touch that had taken her hand from its refuge earlier still had hold of it. It was just as warm and strong as before, and whatever held her hand made her feel as safe as the noise did.

But something was different.

The noise sounded different – or maybe she was hearing it differently, more clearly.

Whatever the case, she tried to concentrate on the noise as the darkness pulled her down once again.

* * *

More noise.

It was noise that brought her back from the pit, not the cold.

She felt as if she'd made the journey back so many times, but why couldn't she free herself? Why did she feel like she was climbing up the angled walls of a dark canyon as she desperately tried to claw her way free? She heard the noises from before. She knew she could find it if she could just escape.

One of the noises… no, it wasn't a noise. It was a voice. It was a soothing voice, one she'd heard before but she couldn't remember where.

_A voice. _

A voice meant that there was someone there, speaking.

She put all her effort into concentrating on the voice as the noise became words. If she could understand the words, follow them, maybe she could find a way out of the murkiness that had hold of her.

"… indications… momentary…consciousness…"

The voice that said those words was not the one she concentrated on. It was the second voice that responded to the first that she was drawn to.

"She's waking up?"

She _knew_ that voice, but why couldn't she answer? Why couldn't he get to her? Why couldn't he find her?

Just as she lost her tenuous hold on the fragile thread of concentration, she wondered who _he_ was.

* * *

She realized that the dark was no longer a place to fear. It was merely sleep, a restful sanctuary for her. For whatever reason, the darkness was now her friend, not the terrorizing demon that had once tortured her. How or why she thought this, she didn't know. What she knew was that the need for such deep sleep began to loosen its grip. She could almost see light. It was far off, but the impenetrable darkness no longer held her as tight.

More voices were there. One was older and comforting, another mature and wise, the last younger and worried. Maybe if she used every ounce of strength she had, she could find the voices. They could lead her away from the darkness.

That one voice… the one she knew so well… it was saying something about the many days that had passed since they found her and brought her there. Found _who_? Brought _where_? The other voice… older, more patient, it said that at least they _had_ found her, they _had_ got her back. That was what was important.

Her hand was being held again… by someone else's hand. That was what had drawn it out of its warm cocoon under the blanket. Someone needed to hold her hand. Why? That was a question for another time.

Something was happening.

The more mature voice spoke. "Captain, she is showing signs of consciousness."

Then the other voices suddenly stopped. She needed them to speak again! They were her way out of the darkness!

"Jennifer?"

It was the well-known voice. She turned toward the sound, feeling his warm hand touch her face and gently cup her cheek.

"Jennifer, can you open your eyes?"

Eyes? Was that why it was so dark? She had her eyes shut? She concentrated. She tried to find the strength to do as he asked, whoever _he_ was, and finally her muscles obeyed her commands.

Through very blurry vision, she saw two people staring at her. One, older, his smile genuine and happy as he looked at her. The other, younger, looked like he was about to cry, but he was smiling as much as the older man.

"You had us worried, kiddo," the older man told her. "You've been out of it for a long time."

Kiddo? Out of it? She didn't understand. Who were these people?

"Jennifer?" the younger man got her attention. "Can you understand me?"

Of course, she could understand him. She could hear them, both of them. She knew the words. She barely nodded her head, and it took every last ounce of her strength to do so.

"You don't have to say anything," the younger man told her. "You're awake. That's a miracle in itself."

_Miracle?_ Why?

"It's okay if you want to go back to sleep," he told her. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Sleep. For once, the idea of leaving the light didn't worry her. She wasn't going into a dark place she couldn't escape from. She was just going to sleep.

* * *

Warm.

This time, the air was warmer.

No, the air itself wasn't warmer. She was curled up on her side under the blanket, and it was the warmth from the blanket warming the air against her skin. The nasal canula kept a steady flow of air blowing into her nose, helping her to breathe.

She felt… comfortable.

She also felt his hand on her arm.

His voice… she could hear his voice only it wasn't coming in sporadic hums of noise. She could hear his words.

"… and then the doctors said they had done everything they could think of. Between the emergency surgeries you had to undergo the moment we reformed you to spending almost a week in the regenerator, they didn't know if you'd make it. They don't know you like we do. You're stubborn. We knew if we waited long enough, you'd wake up. They told us that the effects of being caught in a mid-digitization were unknown. There was nothing they could do for you that we couldn't, so we brought you here to the new base. The doctors told us to keep talking to you, that maybe you could hear us and find your way back. Scout's been telling you about how he's retasking this satellite we put into orbit. I can't wait for you to get a look at the schematics. My father built it years ago it but he died before he could launch it. It's given us a hand up in the war since we can spy on Dread's movements. Oh, he's a biodread now. Nothing human left…"

He was quiet for just a moment, then, "Tank's been reading Chaucer's Canterbury Tales to you. It was a toss-up between Chaucer or Shakespeare. I think he likes to discuss Shakespeare with you when you're awake. He says you ask the best questions. Hawk – he keeps talking about life before Dread. He wonders what kind of life you might have had then."

She opened her eyes. It was much easier than the last time. He was still sitting there, just as he said he'd be. That fact alone brought a slight smile to her face. He was looking away from her as he rambled, as if anything in the room could inspire another thread of conversation. He looked tired. His eyes were bloodshot, his beard scruffy and unkempt. He looked like he could use a long sleep.

"Captain," a gentle, more mature voice sounded behind her, "Corporal Chase is awake."

His head jerked back toward hers, and he smiled. His placed his hand on her head, gently stroking her hair. "Hi."

She knew him. She just had to remember…

_Then_ she remembered.

"Jon?" she whispered, her voice hoarse form disuse.

He nodded, the smile never leaving. "Yeah. It's me."

Jon. _Jon!_ She knew him. And the others… Hawk, Tank, Scout – those were the names of her friends.

Jon looked to an area behind her. "Mentor, how is she?"

"All vitals are within normal parameters."

Mentor. The computer Stuart Power had built. She _remembered_.

"I'll inform the others that Corporal Chase is awake," Mentor volunteered.

"Tell them she's talking. They'll be happy to hear that this time."

Jennifer had the impression Jon and Mentor had the conversation several times before.

But why were they having it?

"What happened?" she asked.

He stopped smiling. His eyes looked sad. "What's the last thing you remember?"

What did she remember?

She remembered _riding on the sky bike…_

"I was on the sky bike. Did it crash?"

"No," Jon told her.

…_reaching the base… _

"No, it didn't crash," she agreed. "I got to the base."

"You got to the base," he agreed.

… _accessing the data disk… _

"The data disk that Locke gave us. I was analyzing it." She closed her eyes as those last few moments began to play out in her mind.

"You analyzed it. Do you remember what happened next?" Jon prompted her.

What happened next?

_What happened next?_

She could almost see it, almost hear it. "Blastarr was at the base."

Jon nodded his head. "The disk was a trap."

Trap. Right. "There was nothing on the disk. I initiated the self-destruct?"

"You did. Something else happened after that."

She thought for a moment. The self-destruct – it stopped. She had to trigger it manually. She had downloaded a copy of Mentor, got the remaining power suits, secured them all on the sky bike and programmed it to fly back to the jumpship. She hurried back in to the base… she could see Blastarr in front of her… could feel the blasts as they hit her… felt her suit shut down… felt her broken ribs pierce her like a thousand knives… she knew she only had moments before Blastarr killed her or her wounds did.

She only had moments… she contacted the jumpship. In stark clarity, she remembered what she said, what she did. "I told you to stay away because I had to manually initiate the self-destruct."

"Yeah, you did."

"That wasn't all I said," she whispered.

"No, that wasn't all you said," he told her with a slight smile as he gently pushed her hair away from her face. "I would really like to finish that conversation when you're feeling better."

Feeling better. At the moment, she didn't feel much of anything except the cold air, the warm blanket, and his hand. "I'm not dead," she said, surprised at that revelation.

Of all the things she could have said, Jon must not have been expecting that. He didn't laugh. It was more of a relieved chuckle. "No, you're not dead. Blastarr digitized you just as the base exploded."

That part, she didn't remember. She wasn't sure she wanted to. "Did Blastarr –"

"He didn't get anything. You got him," Jon assured her. "The digitizer was the only part of him that survived pretty much intact. We salvaged it, took it to the techs in the Passages and got you back."

She had no doubt that there was a long story attached to that brief statement. She didn't ask though. Long stories could wait for another time. She was feeling tired and sleep was tugging at her again. "I was in this dark place," she muttered. "It hurt for a long time. I couldn't get out. I felt like I was falling into this deep pit all the time. Then I heard your voices and kept trying to follow them."

Her eyes started to close, and she heard him whisper as he leaned close and kissed her on the forehead, "It's okay. Go to sleep. I'll wake you up before you fall too deep."

The End


End file.
